I love people. I think the single fact that would make love, truth, and God plausible is the existence of our fellow human beings, and our ability to have relationships and friendships with them extends this plausibility.
However, sometimes I just wanna choke the life out of someone when they send me another ridiculous forward. Surely this is not the thought of an unreasoning person. Let us begin with the dreaded virus message:
"From: moron@annoyme.com
Subject: U shuld reed this
To: jeff.deck@dartmouth.edu, athe-na@olympus.com, dickens@twocities.com, god@heaven.com, billgates@greed.com, dartmouthreview@naziheadquarters.com
Warning! If you receive a message entitled "YOUR MOM WEARS ARMY BOOTS," don't open it! It will erase your hard drive and set any nearby pets on fire..." [This is ridiculous. An e-mail can't erase your hard drive. The pets, however, are another story.] "... so don't open it! My friend's aunt's chiropractor checked it out and she swears to God it's true. Send this message to ten people or you will rot in hell."
Another kind appeals to one of humankind's baser instincts. This, of course, is:
"Send this message to ten other people. Microsoft is using a beta e-mail tracking device. Bill Gates is working with the new Prime Minister of Jerusalem, and if this message goes to 10,000 people, he will secure peace in the Middle East by simply buying it. The first 1,000 people to pass this on will get their own oil refinery. Send it on or you will rot in hell." This is another absurdity. Gates will not buy the Middle East unless it is bundled with Internet Explorer.
There is another, subtler kind of irritating forward. It is perpetuated by aspiring poets, and the people who are suckered by their terrible works:
"Friends: A friend is someone who'll give you a hug even when you've just murdered his first-born child. A friend is someone who loves you for who he thinks you are, not for who you know you are. Friends are good and stuff, they give you lots of love and stuff, there was once this guy who told a girl that he didn't love her, but he did, and then she was hit by a car, so don't forget to love and stuff. The End. Love everyone. PASS THIS ON TO TEN PEOPLE OR YOU WILL ROT IN HELL!" The scariest part of messages like this one is not the last sentence, but instead the fact that garbage is being passed off for poetry these days. What ever happened to the good old days of T.S. Eliot writing about dead kittens?
Perhaps the forwards that are the most fruitless are the "petitions":
"I pledge to never drink and drive/I pledge that I'm sorry that people died/I pledge that I like human rights and stuff. Sign below and pass it on (or you'll rot in hell). 1. Harry Thompson, of Harryville, NH. 2. Biff Carlton, of Harryville, NH..." and so on. There are many problems with these. The lists cancel out each other because they are sent on to several people at once, who sign themselves as the last number on the list, let's say 39, and pretty soon there are seven 39s floating around out there. Also, who the hell's going to read these long, wonderful lists? Do YOU know the President's e-mail address?
The thing that bothers me the most about forwards is that they presume to command me to do something, and also to tell the future. "Send this on, or you'll rot in hell." Does this little box on my computer screen actually think it has the power to control me? I refuse to be ordered around by an e-mail. I always delete such messages; I get a wonderful feeling of empowerment. Not only that, but if you think about it, it's rebellion at its finest. Someone has told me to do something, and I refuse. Come on, all of you rebels and deviants out there. It's time to unite! I say, go out there and delete a forward today - stick it to the Man.
